The Last Race
by Nytewing
Summary: AU He closed his eyes as the memories assaulted him,"No one could have helped my family but I don't want anyone else to have to go through that if I can help it."
1. Interviewing

Author's Note: Ok, just so you know, this is set in an alternate universe where Alan was not a Tracy, don't worry he is still in the story (in fact he is a major part of the story), just Lucy died after Gordon was born.

Disclaimer: I just play with them, I don't own them.

Chapter One: Interviewing

"I don't understand _why_ we need another Thunderbird!" Gordon tried not to whine but felt the tone creeping into his voice nonetheless. "We are just fine with four!"

Jeff Tracy sighed; he had known that this might create some problems with the youngest of his boys, the older three had accepted his decision after hearing the explanation, and Scott had even been the one to suggest it. "Look, son," he said, trying to find the words to truly explain why they were doing this, "We cannot continue to send you boys out for every rescue, especially when one is called in during another. If we have six working members then we will have five people on earth at all times."

Gordon nodded, light of understanding finally dawning in his eyes, "Okay," he said slowly, "I understand why. But, I still want to know who."

Jeff actually smiled for the first time since finding his youngest son to talk, "Well, I have one lined up to interview today and if I think that he will do well I'll invite him to stay for the week, sit in on rescues and generally see what we do. You will have a chance to meet him throughout the week."

Gordon sighed,"Fine, I'll be at the pool." He turned and stalked off, obviously still slightly annoyed at his father for what he perceived as an unnecessary cloak and dagger act.

Jeff ran one hand through his slightly graying hair with another sigh, he was tempted to follow Gordon but Scott was already landing with the candidate and he needed to be ready. He turned back to his desk and flipped on the switch that activated the islands surveillance cameras on the island. He was pleased to see that Scott was already leading the young man up the stairs from the landing strip to the main house. As they walked Jeff took a moment to examine the teenager; he had short blonde hair (almost as light as John's) that he was currently wearing gelled into spikes, dark blue eyes were set under almost non-existent eyebrows. The boy carried himself confidently but his eyes were darting about, as if he was expecting an attack of some kind at anytime. Jeff smiled, that kind of wariness was just what he wanted to see, it meant the boy would not be easily tricked into giving away their secrets.

He only had to wait about five minutes before Scott appeared at the door, "Come in," he said and Scott quickly made his way over to Jeff's side.

"He's waiting outside the door," Scott informed him, "Dad, I like him. I think he can do this."

Jeff nodded, he had given Scott orders to observe the boy on his way here and report his findings before the interview, "You think he can be trusted?"

Scott nodded emphatically, "I tried asking him about is background and he just closed up. The kid can keep secrets with the best of 'em."

Jeff nodded, "Well, he'll have to tell me that but it's good to hear that he can keep his mouth shut."

Scott suddenly looked a little worried, "Dad, do you think he might be a little young? I mean Gordy is young to be doing this, is it really right to bring a sixteen year old into this?"

Jeff nodded, "I know, and I was skeptical at first, in fact I still am. But you saw Agent 35 when she called about setting up his interview; she said there was soothing different about him. Agent 35 is not shaken easily but she looked worried about the boy, she said he needed to come here. She has worked faithfully for us for ten years the least we can do is honor the one thing she has ever asked for."

Scott nodded, "Yeah, I guess, I just-" he shook his head, "I don't know. I'll send him in." He turned and made to leave the room but not before his father got a chance for one last reassurance.

"Don't worry Scott; I am going to do what is best for this family and the Thunderbirds." Scott nodded.

"I know dad, you always have," then he was gone out the door to send the applicant in.

The boy walked in and immediately Jeff was analyzing; the first thing he noticed was that for sixteen the lad was very well muscled. His arms and legs were well defined but not overly so and he carried himself with the ease that comes from an athletic life. As he had observed earlier the boy had spiky blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. Before he could say anything the lad stepped up and held out his hand.

"Good morning sir," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "I'm Alan."

Jeff nodded, "It's nice to meet you Alan," he gestured to the seat in front of his desk, "Please make yourself comfortable." Alan nodded and sat.

"Thank you sir," he said politely, _too politely _Jeff thought _no teenager is this cordial._

Jeff sat back down at his desk and rifled through some papers pretending to read some note or another despite the fact that what little information was in the file was memorized, "It says here you contacted one of our agents about working for the Thunderbirds?" He glanced up at the boy for confirmation and when he got it in the form of a slight nod continued, "You realize that that is highly…irregular. We normally seek out promising individuals to act as our agents. But, we have never hired an actual Thunderbird pilot before so really there are no procedures in place." He paused again attempting to judge the boys reaction but there was none, he sighed, "Tell me why you want to be a Thunderbird."

The boy looked almost startled, "Well, sir," he hesitated, "You see sir…."

Jeff chuckled at the boy's hesitation, "Do your parents know you are here lad?" he asked suddenly realizing that this might be a teenage whim, though he doubted it from te look in the boys eyes.

Alan stiffened and anger flashed momentarily across his features, "My parents died to weeks ago," he said. Jeff was startled by the amount of venom in the sixteen year old's voice, "I'd really rather not talk about it."

Jeff was startled, greatly so, but he recovered his composure quickly, "Alan, I need to know and it might help to talk about it. Believe me I know, I lost my wife about ten years ago, I tried to hold it in but nearly went crazy." At the wary look in Alan's eyes he said, "Don't worry; everything you say here is strictly confidential. It will only go in the file and no one but me reads those." With those words Alan visible relaxed.

"Okay sir," he said quietly, "But I have to go a few years back to explain things."


	2. Alan Meet Gordon

_Okay two things before we get to the story; one I apologize deeply to any NASCAR fans out there for despite living in the south my whole life I know nothing of the sport. See, I live in Texas where everything takes a backseat to football and I myself play Lacrosse so prefer watching that. I did a little research to make Alan's story a little better but I'm sure every fan out there will be flaming me. So in advance I'm sorry if what I'm saying seems entirely implausible in the sense of what would happen in a race, I won't apologize for the age because I know someone that age who is the best damn driver I have ever seen and in the future who know how old you will have to be? Anyway, if there are any painfully glaring inaccuracies just tell me and I will do my best to fix them._

_Also I forgot to mention the boy's ages in this fic. I changed the ages just a little for the purposes of this story, but seeing as this is fanfiction we are allowed to do that right? Anyway they are as follows:_

_Scott: 25_

_John: 23_

_Virgil: 21_

_Gordon: 18_

_Alan: 16 (about to turn 17)_

_I lowered their ages for a couple of reasons, but the largest being that they are closer to my own this way and I can be a little more accurate with the descriptions of their reactions._

_Okay now that the ridiculously long AN is over we can get on with the story._

_Disclaimer: If I owned them would I be writing fanfiction?_

Chapter Two: Alan

Jeff watched as Alan swallowed a few times trying to get up the courage to start, he considered telling the boy he didn't need to tell the story, but the file would eventually need to e updated and he was curious, "Please don't stop me once I start," Alan muttered, "I don't think I could keep going." Jeff nodded.

"Of course," he smiled, "Take as long as you need." Alan dropped his eyes and started speaking.

"I have lived in almost twenty countries since the time I was two. That when I was finally adopted, until them it was foster homes, I think they told me thee of them once but I don't remember any. I was adopted by Keith and Mary, they already had two sons but when they heard about me from a friend they decided I needed a home not a place to stay," he was smiling for the first time since the plane landed, a half smile tainted by sadness but a smile just the same, "My parents and older brothers worked on and raced cars. They aren't –weren't particular stock, rally, everything. From my fourth birthday I started training to drive and by my eighth I was the best of my brothers. There were only two problems for me back then; one in most countries you have to be at least twelve to race and two I could reach the petals easily. So I spent four years in my oldest brother's pit crew. We changed the tires and learned quick maintenance I can do any repairs besides taking out the engine in less than five minutes now."

"Anyway, on my twelfth birthday I tested and got my license, it was only good for tracks and courses but I could legally race. For the next four years I raced and I was good. I mean really good, a lot of people say I was the best."

"But, see that didn't go over too well with a lot of the other racers, especially in the US. In the other countries there wasn't nearly as much publicity so even when I was undefeated after 37 races I was never really famous. In the US though I never lost a race and for a sixteen year old they thought it was a miracle," here he made a face, "You have no idea how many times we had to go to court for my parents to argue that it was my choice to race and not child labor." Jeff chuckled.

"I imagine people thought that if you were racing you weren't in school?"

Alan nodded staring at his hands, "Yeah, but my mom homeschooled me and my brothers so I finished high school about a year ago. They shut up when we showed them my grades. Well, they mostly shut up, my biggest rival in America, this guy named Henry Cooper, never stopped. He was a rookie the same year I was and never got over the fact that I beat him every time we raced. By the time I turned sixteen he had decided violence was the only way to solve is problem so he beat me up every time I was in the country so I would hopefully have to drop out of races. Didn't work." Alan smirked, rubbing a scar that ran the length of his arm, "I still kicked his ass every time, wasn't my fault he didn't understand his car." Jeff smiled at that, the boy sounded just like his own sons talking about their 'birds. "Finally about two weeks ago we were both entered into the Nextel Cup and he decided violence off the track wasn't enough," his voice grew hard and Jeff knew what was coming. "He bumped me during the race right as we were leaving the pits and while I kept it in control I slowed down just enough the guy behind me spun out trying to stop a collision. I thought it was over after that so I just sped up again and finished the race. It was when I tried to get to the pits to get out I noticed the fire trucks and the ambulances. We buried them a few days later. No one can survive being hit by seven cars going at full speed." His head was bowed and eyes were closed as the memories assaulted him, "No one could have helped my family but I don't want anyone else to have to go through that if I can help it. That's why I looked up your agent."

His head came up and Jeff met he boy's eyes, what he saw there pleased him, this was no teenage whim the story and the conviction in Alan's eyes confirmed this. "Then welcome to the Thunderbirds Alan."

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The sand was perfect. Soft and white and not too hot the way sand can sometimes be. The tiny remains of long dead sea creature sifted under his feet as he walked along the beach. When he was younger and found out that fact he had refused to go to the beach for a month until finally his adoptive father had explained that eventually everyone had to die and the sea animals were the lucky ones because they got to become something wonderful when they died, they got to travel the world and make little kids happy. That idea had made Alan feel infinitely better then and the thought comforted him now.

"I miss you guys," he whispered into the strong sea breeze that surrounded him, "But you are part of something more beautiful now and I'm going to make sure no one else has to join you." He had just finished speaking when the sounds of shouting reached his ears.

"Gordon Cooper Tracy!" The angry voice drifted from somewhere behind him in the direction of the villa. Alan turned to look but was instead sent to the ground in a tangle of limbs as someone else barreled into him.

"Gordon you can't get away from me!" the angry person shouted, the voice was definitely closer now, "You're only faster in water fish-boy!"

"Would it help if I said I didn't do it?" the person who had so unceremoniously dumped Alan on the ground shouted back, but his eyes were darting around nervously obviously looking for a place to hide. Alan held back a chuckle; the older teen looked so desperate.

"There's a small cave right over there," he muttered pointing to where he had seen the cave. It was really more of a depression in the stone of the cliff that butted up to the beach. The older teen flashed him a grin and disappeared with a quick wave of thanks. Alan nodded back and started back along his path to the water. After speaking with Mr. Tracy (who insisted that now that he was a member of the team, even it was only in a probationary status, he be called Jeff) Alan had decided that a walk on the beach was in order to clear his head before dinner was served and he was officially introduced to the international rescue team. _Seems I'm going to be meeting a few of them a little earlier than planned._ He thought to himself even as the yelling man raced out of the trees. Alan watched as he looked frantically around for a moment before running over to Alan.

"Did the little bastard come past here?" he asked but Alan noticed that despite his words the tone lacked true anger. It was the man who had flown the plane to pick Alan up, Scott he believed was the name.

Alan resisted the urge to glance over to the cave, "Yeah," he said, "He ran down the beach that way," he pointed in the direction of his own footprints, "If you hurry you might catch him, he looked like he was getting tired." Scott nodded his thanks and ran off quickly disappearing from sight. When he was gone Alan finally looked over to the cave, "It's safe to come out," he said dryly.

The red head's face appeared over a rock and was quickly followed by his body, "Thank you so much," he laughed, "I thought he was really going to kill me this time…."

Alan cocked his head to one side, "What did you do?" He had noticed on the plane that Scott was very uptight but he had been nice enough when Alan was nervous before his interview.

Gordon chuckled, "Well first I 'dyed' every piece of clothing he owns pink, the color's not permanent it'll wear off by tomorrow." Alan's eyes widened, he and his own brothers had loved their pranks but they had never gone to quite that scale, "Then I-" Gordon stopped noticing that Alan was no longer listening. "Are you okay?" He asked, there was a look in the younger man's eyes Gordon didn't quite know how to interpret.

Alan couldn't help it, when he had thought about his brothers he had sunk back into the feelings right after that terrible day. He just couldn't believe they were dead! One second they were there and the next because of his own stupid mistake they were gone and he hadn't even known. "Hey, are you okay?" the words barely filtered through his self-recriminating thoughts. He felt hands on his shoulders and shook his head in an attempt to clear the memories that caused so much pain.

"I- I'm fine," he mumbled, "I've got to go." With that he was gone, back up the beach to sink into his memories.

"Gordon?" Gordon whirled to see Scott standing behind him but he didn't run, what had just happened with Alan had confused him too much, "Was that Alan?"

Gordon nodded, "Yeah and it was really weird I mentioned the prank," here he glanced uneasily at Scott but it seemed his older brother was willing to let it go for now, "and it was like he just shut down. I don't know what's wrong with him." Scott shrugged.

"It has to be hard leaving you home and being thrust into all this," Scott said but what they were both wondering for the first time was what had made Alan want to join them. What had made a sixteen year old boy want to leave his home for a strange place and a dangerous job?


	3. Alan meet Scott

Disclaimer: Me no owny da Tracys. Kapesch?

Warning: there is some language in this chapter (like one word worth)

Chapter Three

Dinner rolled around all too quickly for Alan, who had still not recovered from his impromptu trip down memory lane when the middle aged Malaysian man knocked on his door summoning him for the meal. He spent a very confusing five minutes trying to remember the directions Jeff had given him before finally emerging in the dining room. At first he thought he had the wrong place, there were so many people each moving in unison around the others as they worked. He watched them for a brief moment before his mind sent him pictures of his own family doing the same thing around a car and he closed his eyes briefly to try and stave off the pain until he was alone. When he opened them he saw not a car but a table and the memories slowly faded.

"Alan!" Gordon called excitedly from his spot at the table, there was an empty seat next to him that Alan assumed was for him. Gordon beckoned him over, "Come on Al, you haven't tasted food until Grandma Tracy has cooked it for you!" An elderly woman whom Alan could only assume was Grandma Tracy lightly smacked Gordon's head as she passed him serving the mashed potatoes.

"Gordon!" she rebuked, "I'm sure his parents are very good cooks!" Alan felt a tiny smiled tug at his lips for the briefest of moments, he liked Grandma Tracy.

"No ma'am," he said politely, "My parents never cooked. Well they tried once but the fire department asked that they no do it anymore. We lived on take out and what other people brought to the track." He clamped his mouth shut realizing he had almost started talking about the race tracks he had grown up around and that was a dangerous road to travel down now-a-days.

Jeff watched as Alan shut down again after mentioning his home and sighed, he remembered that part of the grieving process all too well, the time when every memory hurt and it was best to just shut every one out. Looking at Alan's carefully schooled features he wondered if the boy had cried yet. He doubted it from the way the raw pain still emanated from him.

"Oh you poor thing," his mother was saying, unconsciously putting a little more food on Alan's plate, "It's no wonder you're so skinny!" She finished with Alan's plate and walked back into the kitchen leaving a blushing Alan as the center of attention in the room.

"The track?" the second youngest of the Tracy boys John asked quietly voicing what the others were wondering.

Alan's head jerked up and his eyes sought out Jeff; amazed that he hadn't told them his secret. When he had sufficiently recovered from his surprise he answered, "Umm, yeah, I grew up on racetracks." He didn't elaborate but the ever perceptive John heard the second half of his sentence, _but not anymore. _

"Really?" Gordon asked excitedly, that seemed like an absolute dream come true for any kid.

Alan snorted, "Really, we repaired cars and helped out during races." He didn't feel quite up to talking about what his family really did because that would raise the inevitable questions of what had happened and why he was here. Of course if any of these men were as intelligent as he thought they had to be they would soon start asking questions about why his family had allowed him to just up and (seemingly) disappear. He wanted to forestall that as long as possible, he didn't think he could keep his mask together if they started asking too many questions.

Gordon sighed, "That is so cool," he said dreamily, "Did you meet any famous racers?"

Alan sighed prepared to give out his first white lie, "Umm, not too many, they mostly stayed with the other racers." He rolled his eyes in pretend disdain for the utterly pretentious made up racecar drivers. Then realizing there was way too much attention focused on him to be comfortable he asked, "So which Thunderbird is yours?" He watched as Gordon sighed dreamily and launched off into a description of his baby.

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After the meal Jeff stood up and allowed a few second for his boys to quiet down before speaking, "Ok boys quiet down now." Immediately the boys stopped talking and turned all of their attention to their father. Jeff smiled, "Okay this week we will be 'auditioning' a new pilot for Thunderbird Three. His name is Alan and I expect training not pranks." He eyed Gordon as he said this and the redhead grinned halfway innocently. Alan suppressed the urge to snort, but Virgil had no such reservations.

"Right, Alan watch out for Gordon here," he nudged the younger man. Gordon shoved him back but before it could degenerate Scott shot them a sharp glare and they subsided.

"Alan," he said looking away from them, "I'm in charge of your training this week." He grinned at Alan, "We'll start tomorrow, for tonight I'll just give you the grand tour." He stood up

"Right now?" Alan asked. Scott nodded and Alan stood up to follow him. As they left the room Alan heard Jeff say something to Scott but the words were not discernable.

Scott lead him downstairs first and they went on a quick tour of the Hangar, "Okay, this is where we keep the 'Birds." He gestured to the largest of the craft, "This is TB2; she is our Transport craft, mostly for bringing victims out of the danger zone and getting TB4 where she needs to be. TB4 is the yellow one in the pod hanging from the bottom." Alan nodded; he knew all this every kid in the world did. "The big red one is TB3, she's the space craft that you'll be flying for supply runs to TB5 and making space rescues." Alan nodded again, feeling as if it was hard to get a word in edge wise. "Good, there really isn't much more down here. I'll show you the Cove next. Dad said you had already been to the beach?"

"Yeah, I went there before dinner. I also went to the Cove," he had explored when watching the sea became tiresome and found a beautiful inlet of the ocean where he had spent the time until dinner.

Scott looked pleasantly surprised, "Well, would you like to go for a walk anyway? ?I think my brothers are trying to get a party together to welcome you and we should probably give them a little more time." Alan agreed and they made their way out of the hangar to the beach. Once here Scott lead him southward, the sun was setting to their right, bathing the scene in red.

"How long have you all lived on the island?" Alan asked trying for small talk, but Scott was having none of that.

"Why do you want to be a Thunderbird?" he asked. Alan looked up at him in shock, the rest had just accepted that he was here and left it at that. Scott chuckled at the look, "I don't want the actual reason; Dad said that was private. I just want to know why you think that as a sixteen year old thinks that this is the best way to help people."

Alan sighed, he closed his eyes before speaking, "Something happened and I don't have anywhere else to go. I want to help people like me." Scott stopped something in the wording of the sentence rubbed him the wrong way. Had Alan run away from home? And if he had, why? Why would a kid who so obviously cared about complete strangers do that to his family? _Unless his family is the reason he ran away, a_ snide voice in his head whispered. Scott tried to dismiss this notion just as quickly as it had come but the evidence was suddenly piling up around him; the way the kid flinched when you came to close, the way his eyes darkened when you mentioned his family, and the small dark smudges left over from bruises he could see coating the boy's arms.

"Shit," Scott muttered.

Alan looked around at him from his position slightly ahead of the older man. "You say something?" He asked.

Scott didn't answer at first. He was looking for more obvious sign of what he was beginning to suspect had driven the boy away from his family. However when he saw the look of honest confusion on Alan's face he chuckled, "No. I didn't say anything, kiddo."

Alan nodded, "Ok," he sighed, "Look, I have my reasons for wanting to save people; I just….I just can't talk about it." If Scott were Gordon he might not have accepted that as an answer, as it was he just smiled at the boy. If his theory was right the kid would not be quick to talk about it.

"It's cool. I understand."

"You don't but thanks for trying," Alan smirked at him and to his surprise Scott found himself resisting the urge to laugh. If the kid wasn't so somber he could be funny. The way he spoke dripped with bitter irony that could easily be turned into sarcasm.

"So, do you want to see the simulator?"He had saved the Sim for last because it was his personal favorite to show off (other than, of course, the Thunderbirds themselves). However, to his surprise Alan shook his head.

"Nah, I think I'll just stay down here on the beach for a bit. It's relaxing," Scott was not about to deny the boy anything so he merely smiled.

"Alright then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. I have to go to the mainland in the morning."

"Night," Alan mumbled already lost in his own world. Scott watched him for a moment. He was sitting in the sand with his knees to his chest in an almost vulnerable gesture. His pale fingers were running through the sand slowly. Scott shook his head; he may have only met Alan that morning but if he ever met the people who had hurt the teenager he would not be held accountable for his actions.

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_Hey some people said that maybe Alan's parent's deaths were a little unclear so I hope some rewording and a quick summary will help:_

Alan nodded staring at his hands, "Yeah, but my mom homeschooled me and my brothers so I finished high school about a year ago. They shut up when we showed them my grades. Well, they mostly shut up, my biggest rival in Europe, this guy named Henri Cooper, never stopped. He was a rookie the same year I was and never got over the fact that I beat him every time we raced. By the time I turned sixteen he had decided violence was the only way to solve is problem so he beat me up every time I was in the country so I would hopefully have to drop out of races. Didn't work." Alan smirked, rubbing a scar that ran the length of his arm, "I still kicked his ass every time, wasn't my fault he didn't understand his car." Jeff smiled at that, the boy sounded just like his own sons talking about their 'birds. "Finally about two weeks ago we were both entered into the biggest race in France and he decided violence off the track wasn't enough," his voice grew hard and Jeff knew what was coming. "He bumped me during the race right as we were passing a spectator area and while I kept it in control I slowed down just enough the guy behind me spun out trying to stop a collision. I thought it was over after that so I just sped up again and finished the race. It was when I tried to get to where my parents were in the crowd I noticed the fire trucks and the ambulances. We buried them a few days later. No one can survive being hit by seven cars going at full speed." His head was bowed and eyes were closed as the memories assaulted him, "No one could have helped my family but I don't want anyone else to have to go through that if I can help it. That's why I looked up your agent."

His head came up and Jeff met he boy's eyes, what he saw there pleased him, this was no teenage whim the story and the conviction in Alan's eyes confirmed this. "Then welcome to the 

Thunderbirds Alan. You can spend the next week here learning the ropes and getting to know our other agents before we evaluate you at the end of the week."

_So basically what happened was that his rival tried to ram him but Alan got out of the way, however the near collision caused another driver to lose control and crash into the spectator stands, this collision triggered several more (the people behind him). Alan didn't see any of this because he was already around the bend headed for the finish. Also I realize that originally it was NASCAR but I thought this version might be a little more easily understood. Hope this helps!_

_  
__SusanMartha__: Well, I can't really say too much on the Cooper thing but I will definitely try to smooth out his family's death for you. Thanks for reviewing!_

_Tikatu: Thank you so much for taking the time to actually give (constructive) criticism, it means a lot and is really useful. To tell you the truth I never really noticed that (horrific) inconsistency so be sure that it will be addressed in either this chapter or the next. (oh and thanks for the petals-pedals thing, I am a terrible typist)_

_Kat priestly: I'm glad you like the idea! And I hope the next chapter will not disappoint._

_Iniysa: Thank you for taking the time to review and I'm glad you liked the start!_

_Digi-Girl101: (Ch1) A cliffhanger? Me? Never…. I prefer to call them sharp cutoff that leave you well….hanging… (Ch2) Yeah he is so fun to torment though, I just can't help it!  
Cat 2: Thank you so much for reviewing this story (first person to do so!!). And I'm glad it came across that way I was worried about the humor not really being present._


	4. Alan meet John

Chapter Four: Alan Meet John

Cat 2: Thanks once again for reviewing, I'm glad you liked this latest chapter!

Digi-Girl 101: Well, we'll all just have to wait and see won't we? Evil chuckle

It really was like looking in a mirror, albeit a bit of a funhouse mirror. The man before had the same hair and eyes as Alan. Even the facial structure was much the same. Of course, there were subtle differences; the older man was more toned and paler than Alan could ever remember being; he also had a good three inches on the teen's meager height of five feet seven inches.

"You really do look like me…," the other man said wonderingly as he gazed at Alan.

"Yeah," Alan muttered, "That's just weird." He had been too distracted by the younger brother's questions the night before to notice the third oldest Tracy.

The older man shook himself a little to rid the shock, "Huh, well, I'm John," he held out one hand for Alan to shake. "It is nice to meet you."

"Ditto," Alan murmured, he was still a little enthralled by the similarities between their looks. There was a slightly awkward silence after he spoke but Alan had become used to those in the last fortnight.

"So, umm I take it you were given the grand tour last night," John faltered. He was not sure why he felt the need to speak to the boy; normally he was content to sit in silence when with people he did not know. It was like that even sometimes with his family but with this kid he felt the need to talk and strangely, to comfort. It seemed there was something eating at him that John could not even begin to understand.

Alan gave him an odd look, "Yeah," he muttered, "Hey, do you have any motorcycles on this island?" His question was sudden and urgent.

"Yeah, I guess we have a few, one of Gordon's from when he was obsessed with driving and a few others," Something flickered in Alan's eyes before dying away. John eyed him before continuing slowly, "But you wouldn't know about being obsessed with driving would you?" He didn't know why he said it save that something in the sixteen year old's eyes told him it was the right thing to say. Alan however, disappointed John exceptions and merely shook his head.

"Nah, I just wanted to see if you guys did," he turned and walked away quickly leaving John to wonder what had just happened.

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. Alan had disappeared after his talk with John and only emerged for dinner where he sat silently and picked at the food causing Kyrano to fret that there was something wrong with the cooking. Once this fear was verbalized Alan hastened to eat as much as he could stomach but his appetite had not been the same since the accident and he could only stand a few bites. He pushed the rest of it around until the Tracy's were done and he could slip away. Alan spent 

the time until he could safely steal away to the garage where he knew the motorcycle would be sitting in the borrowed room literally twiddling his thumbs. The hours passed slowly until, finally, Alan snuck from his room and downstairs. He never saw the watching eyes in the dark.

John jerked awake a little after midnight. He lay in bed for a few seconds attempting to discern what had pulled him from sleep when normally he lay undisturbed throughout the night. He was just giving it up as a bad job and turning back over to sleep when he heard the small thump from just outside his door. He sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed. As silently as possible he crept out to the hallway. There was a dark shadow moving down the hallway. John frowned, the way the person moved was familiar…. The pale moonlight glinted off a spiky blonde hair. Alan.

At first John believed that Alan was merely up for a quick trip to the restroom but the younger man passed right by it and continued on down the hallway. John followed silently.

John watched as Alan made his way through the house, barely visible in his dark clothing. They followed a round-about path to the garage Alan had been shown to earlier. John frowned, why was the teen coming here?

Alan walked up and down the rows of vehicles, speeding up past the cars and slowing down to eye the motorcycles. Finally he stopped next to a sleek black bike that John had never seen anyone but Scoot ride. The oldest Tracy boy was extremely protective of the bike he had been known to call Beatrice when no one was watching. He did have a right to be protective; Scott had designed the bike from scratch during his tour with the Air Force. John stifled a chuckle at the though to Scott's face if he found out someone had even touched his bike, much less rode it which it looked Alan was about to.

John guess was right; five minutes after he found the bike Alan had discovered the keys (hidden under the seat) and was already out to the road that circled the island. John jogged to the small cliff where he normally stargazed. From there he could see the entirety of the island, including a very good view of the road. He watched the tiny lights that marked Alan as they slowly inched onto the packed sand ad then stopped. What was he doing? John thought, Why take the bike and then just stop? Even as this thought crossed his mind the light shot forward in an awe inspiring feat of acceleration. He had to have gone from zero to at least eighty in the first two seconds. John's jaw dropped but Alan was not done; he maneuvered the bike through a series of rapid turns and through a complete circuit of the island before he finally stopped a mere fifteen minutes after John had awoken. For the first time John saw why his father had decided that the boy was to be a Thunderbird. Anyone who could drive a bike as sensitive and difficult to handle as Scott's was a rare talent.

The next morning when, before Alan emerged for breakfast, Gordon was complaining about having a 'new kid' in the business John was the first to tell him to shut up and sit down.

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End file.
